


Taking Molly

by PocketSizedWolf



Series: The Pain Of Molly Hooper [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Between Seasons/Series, Bloodplay, Double Penetration, F/M, Gags, Humiliation, Knifeplay, Multi, Nipple Clamps, Physical Abuse, Restraints, Riding Crop, Sexual Abuse, Starvation, Threats, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketSizedWolf/pseuds/PocketSizedWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Molly.. I'm the kind of man who takes what he wants when he wants it. And right now, I want it from you" Forced Jim/Molly. WARNINGS: Definite Rape and possible torture in later chapters</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Taking

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and am not affiliated with BBC Sherlock in any form.
> 
> This story takes place post-The Great Game, and features non-consensual sex. Because, let's face it, James Moriarty is a bastard and sweet little Molly Hooper doesn't stand a chance. Later chapters, will contain some torture, and an appearance from Moran, but the sex will remain non-consensual. If you have an issue with rape in fanfiction, I'd stay away.

"I don't know anything." Molly Hooper repeated for the fifth time, shaking her head. "He didn't tell me anything. He didn't even tell me who he was. Why am I still here?"  
The forensic pathologist was becoming increasingly irriated with Sally Donovan and her ridiculous questions.  
"I have told you everything." she stated again, hoping it would get her out of Scotland Yard faster. "He commented on my blog, said he worked in IT. We met for coffee in the canteen, we met the next day for coffee, he came to my house for dinner, met my cat and we watched Glee. He told me nothing about who he was, just that he worked in IT and was from Dublin. And then I told him about Sherlock, and he said he wanted to meet the man who had ignored me for years, despite my attraction to him. So I introduced them, and Sherlock deduced that he was gay. After I confronted Jim, I didn't see him for dust. But he really DID work in IT. I knew his manager. He'd worked there for years. Apparently."  
"And that was the last time you saw Moriarty?"  
"Jim" Molly corrected Donovan. She wasn't sure why. Then again, she did. She didn't like the idea that she'd been socialising with a psychopath who had strapped explosives to people just to play a game with Sherlock, even though she didn't know it. Moriarty was a psychopath. Jim had just been a lovely IT worker who'd taken advantage of a lonely pathologist.  
"Can I go now?" she asked Donovan.  
"Well I'm done with my questions, but I think Lestrade wants a word.." Donovan rose from her seat and made her way to the door while Molly silently cursed the stupid woman with her ridiculous curls and an attitude that was far too stuck up to be a successful police officer. What the hell was Lestrade doing, keeping her on the team? The only person worse than her was that bloody Anderson.

Molly stared at herself in the mirror, shaking her head. This was all far too much. She couldn't sleep, couldn't think. Everytime she did, it came back down to Jim and this ridiculous situation she'd somehow gotten into. Lestrade had offered to station someone outside of her flat, in case Moriarty should come back for her, but she'd turned down his offer. What was the point? Jim wasn't going to come back for her, she'd meant nothing at all to him. She hadn't even really succeeded in getting him close to Sherlock. Seemed she was useless even without realising it.

She began brushing her hair, slowly running the large, flat brush through the strands until she was satisfied with the end result. That was the issue with long hair, it always tangled far too easily. She pulled it back into a ponytail, put on her ridiculous pjs, a vest top and shorts combo, splashed some cold water on her face and slipped into bed.

She woke with a start and glanced around the room, the darkness almost suffocating her as she panted heavily. Her dreams had been plagued with.. something terrifying.. She couldn't remember them and they were fast fading. But something had woken her up, and she couldn't work out what it had been. Her eyes scanned the darkness, trying to focus on shapes and shadows and it was then that she realised she was cold. Why was she cold? The room had been toasty and warm when she'd gotten into the bed. Her eyes flew to the window, the open window, the window she had not opened. Or had she? She must have. She pulled herself out of bed and moved to shut the window, cursing as her bare feet made contact with the broken piece of lamp that lay scattered on the floor in front of it.

"Jesus, Toby.." she grumbled, instantly blaming the cat for the broken object. But she'd clean that in the morning, she decided as she pulled the window shut and drew the curtains. It was then that she sensed the other person in the room, but it wasn't as though she had the ability to do anything about it at that point. She could feel them stood behind her, practically pressing against her back. She began to make a noise, only to have a hand forced over her mouth.

"I wouldn't, if I were you.." that smooth Irish voice whispered in her ear and she shivered, closing her eyes.  
This wasn't happening. It's just a dream. You'll wake up in a second, Molly, and find out you've just left the tv on in the sitting room, or something.  
But when she opened her eyes again, she was still exactly where she'd been.

"If you scream, I swear I will slit your throat.." Jim hissed as he dragged Molly backwards, moving to flick on the bedroom light. The room instantly filled with light and Molly closed her eyes once more as the sudden brightness began to sting. When they opened again, she had been plunged into darkness and Jim was tying something black and silky around her head.  
"What-" she began to speak, only to feel his hand smack her face, so hard that she tasted blood.  
"Shut the hell up, Molly.." Moriarty growled, before laughing softly, a laugh full of madness. She'd never heard that before. When he was playing 'Jim from IT', she'd found his laugh so completely endearing. Now, it sent a cold shiver down her spine.  
Jim's hands ran quickly over her body, and she flinched, biting her lip.  
"You're gay.." she blurted out, bracing herself for the slap that would no doubt come. Instead, she merely got another bout of Jim's manic laughter.  
"Wherever did you get that impression?"  
"Sh-sherlock" she stammered, fighting the urge to cry. This was ridiculous, but she refused to cry in front of this madman. "He said you were gay, you know that, I told you that.. Jim please leave me alone." The laughter again. She froze.  
"I'm not gay, darling.. I merely played gay to make a fleeting impression on your detective friend. And to break your little heart of course" he chuckled, moving her backwards until she could feel the edge of her bed behind her. "Molly.. I'm the kind of man who takes what he wants when he wants it. And right now, I want it from you"  
"No.." Molly breathed. There was no way she would give herself willingly to this madman.  
"Oh darling.. It's funny that you think you have a choice.."

With that, he gripped Molly by the throat, forcing her backwards onto the bed. She yelped and struggled, but was quickly rewarded with another slap to the face. She couldn't believe this was happening, this had to be a nightmare, this couldn't really be happening. She felt Jim tugging at her clothes, ripping away the material, not at all concerned about whether or not she ever wanted to wear them again. She felt the cold air causing her nipples to harden, and heard Jim chuckling softly. Suddenly, she became quite relieved in a funny little way, she realised as he ripped away her ridiculous shorts, that she couldn't see him, that she didn't have to look him in the eye throughout this ordeal. Yes, it meant he had the element of surprise, he could do anything and she'd never see it coming, but he wouldn't have to look into his soulless eyes while he did whatever he was about to do to her, and she knew that that look would be the thing that haunted her.

Jim chuckled softly as he looked over her body. She'd stopped struggling, and now lay quivering, her body language begging him to leave her be. Not that he'd listen.  
"Oh Molly.. you really shouldn't believe everything people tell you, you know.." he whispered harshly as he unbuckled his belt, placing the thick metal strap between his teeth as he moved to grab her wrists. Placing his knees either side of her waist, he secured her wrists with his belt, attaching them to the headboard. She winced at this as the thick leather began cutting into the delicate skin around her wrists, which Jim thought looked delicious. He could definitely get used to that.  
"You're very attractive when secured like this, you know.." he chuckled, raking his nails down her stomach, doing his very best to hurt her. Molly bit her lip, he assumed it was to keep from screaming, but he didn't actually care. His fingers moved between her legs, toying lightly with her folds as he bent forward, taking a nipple between his lips and biting down hard. She wanted to scream, but the noise caught in her throat and mingled with a sob

"James, please.." she begged, her voice becoming almost hysterical as he let her nipple drop from his mouth "Please stop.."  
"Keep talking, Molly, and I'll have to gag you.." he smirked, taking her other nipple and giving it the same treatment. His fingers continued brushing over the curls that covered her folds, occasionally dipping between her lips and feeling the dryness between them. She was terrified, he could see that, but somehow that made it more delicious.

After a few minutes of toying with her, Moriarty began kissing and biting his way down her body, making sure his teeth pierced her skin every so often. She twitched and winced, but the threat of a gag kept her quiet until he moved between her legs, spreading them as wide as he could. His tongue ran gently over her clit, and she very nearly moaned, her body responding to his treatment despite the fact that her brain was screaming. It didn't last long, however, as he moved to grip her sensitive nub between his teeth. She couldn't help herself. She screamed. He knew she would.

"Oh dear.. Silly little girl can't do as she's told" Jim did his best to sound disappointed as he picked up the short's she'd been wearing to bed, forcing the material into her mouth. "Spit that out, and I promise you, you'll regret it.." he chuckled as he pushed down his trousers.

There was nothing that could have prepared Molly for the feeling of Jim pushing 8 inches of himself into her almost completely dry vagina. She screamed against the material in her mouth as she felt him forcing himself into her, his nail digging into her thighs. He smirked to himself. He'd gotten her wet enough that he wasn't at all uncomfortable, and yet he knew Molly was in a lot of pain, he could see the pain written over every inch of her body, and he revelled in it. His fingers raked down her body once more as he moved to bite and tug on her nipples once more, alternating between each of them as his finger pressed against her clit.

Molly's head shook on the pillow as she tried to pretend it wasn't happening. The size of him was bigger than she'd ever had before, not that she was all that experienced anyway, but he was stretching her and it was ever so painful. She cried out repeatedly into the gag in her mouth, but his continuous attention on her clit was making her body respond in ways she didn't want it to. He moved to grip hold of her hips once he was satisfied with how wet she was, pounding against her with such force that he knew she would be bruised for days.

Jim groaned with animalistic lust as his fingernails split the skin on Molly's hips. He was getting close to the edge as he looked down at her bruised and scratched nakedness before him, but it wasn't enough for him at that moment. With a smirk, he pulled off the blindfold and Molly blinked at the light, and shuddered as she looked up at the face of the devil. Her eyes closed again, and he gripped her throat tightly.

"Keep them open" he hissed, his eyes staring into hers, the dark emptiness in them causing her to shiver with fear. His hand remained around her throat as his movements quickened, his eyes remaining constantly fixed upon hers, a wicked grin on his face. He reached his climax with a growl, pushing himself deep into her.

She watched him as he pulled up his trousers, fixing himself up and slipping on his suit jacket, his eyes raked over her naked form as she quiverred with fear and cold. She could feel his semen dripping down her thigh as she closed her legs, and sobbed softly to herself. He leaned across, pulling the material from her mouth with a smirk.  
"Untie me.. Please.." she begged, looking up at the mad man as he loomed over her, his fingers running over the leather of his belt. "You got what you wanted.. please.."  
"Oh no, Molly.." Jim chuckled softly, moving to release her hands from his belt "I'm not done with you yet.."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short chapter, and nothing much REALLY happens, but it makes sense in the next chapter, which will be up soon! I promise. Anyway, enjoy.

Molly wasn't sure what had happened in the past few hours. After Jim had redressed himself, he'd blindfolded her once more before hitting her with something that had caused her to black out.

Her eyes opened in a shockingly white room, the ceiling bold and imposing. There was a pounding in her head where Jim had hit her and she moved to touch it, but found she couldn't move her arms. In fact, her entire body was restrained, attached to a strange stainless steel table, leaving her unable to move more than an inch or two.  
"Ah, you're awake.." Molly closed her eyes as she heard his voice, shivering slightly as she remembered her last encounter with him. So he hadn't lied, he really wasn't finished with her yet. His face appeared in her eye line, a fiendish smirk on his lips as he ran a thick riding crop up her body.  
"You probably recognise this.." she shook her head and he responded by hitting her pussy with the crop. "Don't lie to me, Molly.. I promise you, it's not worth it."  
"I don't-" he hit her again, and she yelped in pain. He chuckled softly.  
"Oh I do love your little yelps, Molly.." he smirked and hit her again, purely to provoke a reaction. His eyes ran over her body, his mind coming up with a thousand different things he could do to the pathologist, many of which would leave her permanently scarred. He wondered briefly why Sherlock had never taken advantage of her OBVIOUS crush on him, but then again, the man was so blind to his sexual urges that it was obvious why.

"This is the crop Sherlock once used on a corpse." he watched as Molly shuddered at that thought. Jim Moriarty was hitting her with a riding crop that had been used on a dead man and the thought of it made her cringe, just as Jim had known it would. It was, of course, not the same crop, but it was merely the thought planted into Molly's head that he needed. The fingers of his free hand ran through Molly's hair which hung off the end of the table, before tugging hard, almost pulling the hairs from her head. Molly screamed.

This isn't happening... she thought to herself as she felt the psychopath's fingers yanking on her hair. She tried to concentrate on other things, her mind dancing to thoughts of her family, her cat, Sherlock. Oh Sherlock. Surely he'd notice her absence? Then again, why would he? He didn't notice her presence. But someone would notice, she was sure of it.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sting of leather across her breasts. She screamed out in pain, caught completely off guard. Her instinct was to cover herself, to prevent any further attacks on her poor, tender flesh but her restraints prevented even the slightest movements. Jim traced the outline of her breasts with the crop, before quickly raising it and bringing it down hard across her breasts over and over. Molly cried out in pain, twitching with the force of each blow. Her pale skin was quickly reddening as Moriarty started alternating his blows to each breast, often landing square on her nipples. She bit down on her lip, tears slowly running down her cheeks. Oh he did love to see her cry, he thought to himself as Molly's body began to shake from the pain. He kept whipping her breasts for at least another fifty strokes.

Jim took a step back to admire his handiwork. Molly's breasts were decorated with dozens of criss cross marks, her nipples were puffed, swollen and red. He felt blood shoot to his cock, wanting to fuck this new toy of his, but he resisted the urge. He had other things to do first. First, he had to break her spirit.

His lips ran along the arm closest to her, planting gentle kisses and the occasional bites until he reached her breasts. He took her swollen nipple between his lips, soothing it with his tongue before biting down hard, eliciting a loud scream from Molly's lips. He chuckled to himself, repeating the action on her other nipple.

"Well, Molly Hooper.. I'll be seeing you.." he chuckled, running his hand down her body as he walked from the room, locking the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I have to write warnings anymore, but let's just say that this chapter is, once again, not pleasant. There's some more Molly rape and a bit more torture. Thank you for all the reviews and story alerts, much appreciated. I know these stories aren't easy to read, but I'm pretty sure that rape is not above James Moriarty.

Molly wasn't sure how long she'd been imprisoned. Her body ached from remaining in the same, stiff position constantly, her breasts were still burning, heat still radiating from them even now. She'd begun to feel completely helpless. At first, she'd convinced herself that someone would notice she was missing, because she'd not been to work for days, she was so sure she was about to be rescued but now she was beginning to accept her fate. No one was coming to help her. She was left, alone with nothing but her thoughts to entertain her.

Every so often, someone would free her, give her a glass of water and allow her to use the bathroom before returning her to her restraints, where she'd drift in and out of sleep. She was beginning to feel weaker than she'd ever felt in her life, and sleep was doing nothing to help ease that. She needed food. She almost laughed at that thought. Food. What she needed, above anything else, was her freedom. She was missing her cat, missing work, missing Sherlock. Sherlock.. she'd not allowed herself to think of him at all. Would he even notice she was gone?

As she allowed herself to think of the consulting detective, the door to her 'cell' opened and James Moriarty strolled casually through, a smirk on his face. The sight of him almost caused Molly to burst into tears, but she held herself together as the psychopath approached. His fingers ran up her body, occasionally slapping her tender flesh, just to see Molly jump with surprise.

"Jim, please.." she begged, hating the sound of her own pleading. "Let me g-" she stopped speaking as Jim slapped her hard across the face, glaring down at her.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to talk, Molly.." he growled, slowly moving to release her from her restraints. Dragging her off the table, he pulled her to the centre of the room by her hair. There hung a large steel ring, about eighteen inches in diameter, two inches thick. It was attached to a heavy chain that ran along the ceiling and down the wall, where he could control the position of the ring. It permitted him to put her in just about any position he wanted, from six feet off of the ground, to one inch above it. It was designed to hold far more than her weight, and it allowed him to tie her from head to toe, or hang her upside down. With a smirk, he chained Molly's wrists to the ring.

Slowly, Jim moved over to where he'd left the riding crop upon his previous visit, picking it up before moving back towards Molly. "Your body bruises far too easily, darling.." he chuckled softly, gently whipping her hips, her stomach and then her breasts, which were still sore from his previous treatment. The leather whipped over her nipples, causing them to become hard and erect, painfully so. Molly let out a little yelp, her eyes closing as she tried to focus on anything but the pain. The whipping stopped and Molly opened her eyes, thinking her torture for the day was over. Jim stood before her with a wicked look on his face, a smirk that made her shiver visibly. He held up something metal and small. Molly frowned.

"These, my darling, are nipple clamps! You'll love them." And without delay he pinched the small metal clamp with slightly pointed little teeth down onto her nipple. It hurt immediately on her small sensitive nipples and she winced, then he clamped on the other one. Molly let out another yelp, and Jim chuckled.  
"Delicious" he smirked, planting an uncharacteristically soft kiss on her lips.

"Now, we're going to play a little game.." he said in the softest voice, pulling a chair up to where the woman was hanging before undressing, sitting down upon the chair once naked, a black remote in his hand. "You're going to make me cum, or you're going to go hungry for another day... " he smirked, pressing a button on the remote which caused the hook to lower Molly until she was straddling him. Molly let out a soft moan as she felt Jim pushing inside her. She knew she'd have to do her best, she was too weak to go without food for another day.

"I'm going to continue to whip you while you do this.." he smirked, hitting her hard on the ass. Molly gripped the ring that her wrists had been attached to, using it as leverage as she pulled her body up slightly and came back down on Jim's cock. She was dry, and every movement hurt her beyond what she thought it would. That didn't stop her, though, the thought of food was spurring her on. Her juices soon began to flow slightly, lubing her up so that she slid up and down his cock a lot more easily. Jim watched her with a smirk, seeing the self-hatred on her face. He planned to break Molly Hooper, as punishment for.. well he'd not decided what he was punishing her for yet. His crop patterned her ass with a criss cross pattern that matched her chest.

Molly closed her eyes and imagined that Jim was Sherlock, that she was pleasuring him. The thought caused her to clench around Jim's shaft, an action which caused a moan of pleasure to leave the criminal's throat. Molly began to move harder and faster as Jim's crop hit her harder and harder, shuddering as her movements caused her breasts to bounce, which only furthered her pain.

Jim dropped the crop and gripped her hips, feeling himself growing close to the edge. He began to move her harder and harder upon his cock, delighting in the way her breasts moved. He came hard, panting, his head flopping back against the headrest of the chair for a few seconds. Molly found she was relieved to feel Jim release within her, thinking that it meant today's torture was over. Her body ached more than she thought possible. Jim looked up at her, taking in the redness of her flesh with a smirk. The marks he'd made were delicious and he couldn't wait to make more. Raising his hand, he slapped Molly's left breast so hard that the clamp flew off, dropping to the floor, tearing a few holes in her nipple as it ripped from her body. He took her nipple between his lips, cleaning away the blood before repeating his actions with the other nipple.

The pain in Molly's chest was distracting her from the hunger pains she was feeling. Jim lifted her off his lap, slowly lowering her to the floor, leaving her on her knees on the cold concrete floor. He pulled on his trousers, leaving the room for a few moments. Molly panted heavily, relieved that she was alone once more, allowed to gather her thoughts. She really should have gone back home after finding out all about Jim, to clear her head, or visit her mother, or even take a holiday. Anything to have gotten out of the grasp of James Moriarty.

Jim reentered the room with a bottle of water and a bacon sandwich on a plate, which he placed on the floor before Molly.

"Eat.." he smirked, watching Molly's confusion. Her hands were tied, rather literally. How exactly was she meant to eat? "Oh come on, Molly.. You really think I'm going to untie you? If you're as hungry as you should be, you'd eat regardless." he pulled the chair back against the wall, sitting to watch the brunette struggle with her humiliation.

Molly fought back tears as his words reached her, humiliation washing over her as she bent her head towards her plate, biting into the bread and chewing slowly. She was so mortified, she thought she would die from the humiliation. She thought the food would make her feel better, but it did the opposite. Due to the speed at which she'd eaten, her stomach started cramping and she groaned in pain.

Jim watched her as she devoured the sandwich, smirking as he admired the curve of her body. There was something about Molly Hooper that was ridiculously attractive, and the fact that she didn't know it made her a little more attractive. He couldn't help but lick his lips as he watched her take in the last few morsels of bread. Once she was done, he moved towards her, lifting her chin.

"I trust you're thirsty?" he asked softly, lifting the bottle to her lips and pouring the liquid into her mouth. Molly couldn't believe how thirsty she was as the water ran down her throat. She was so distracted by her thirst that she didn't notice another man enter the room, making his way over to Jim. He was tall and dark, with dangerous dark eyes that watched Molly's body with lust as he walked.

"Boss, your five o'clock is here.. I take it this is the new toy?" Sebastian Moran spoke with approval as Jim pulled back from Molly's quivering form.  
"Thank you, Seb.." he smirked, standing up beside the other man. "Yes, this is her. What do you think?"  
"Oh I think we can have a lot of fun with this one.." Moran smirked, his eyes meeting Molly's.

Molly shivered with fear as the two men looked over her, biting down on her lip. She couldn't help but think that her torment was far from over..


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another horrible chapter of poor Molly's torture. Seb's a bit of a sadistic bastard, so all the usual warnings apply.

"Just you and me, Girly.." Seb chuckled as Jim left the room, his eyes scanning over Molly's nakedness. He moved behind her, untying her arms from the thick ring they were attached to before handing her another bottle of water. Molly took the bottle timidly from him, downing the entire thing in mere seconds. She was beyond thirsty.

"Well, well, well.. what SHALL we do?" he asked as Molly lowered the bottle, placing it delicately on the floor, before shifting herself, covering her nakedness from the man standing over her.

"No point doing that, Miss Hooper.. I'll only strap you up again.." Moran rolled his eyes, moving away from her and moving towards a cupboard in the corner. He pulled out a ball gag and some string and moved towards Molly again.

"Open your mouth." She did as she was told and he forced the ball into her mouth, tying the gag behind her head, affixing the straps far tighter than they needed to be. "Stand up.." he commanded and she pushed herself slowly to her feet, more frightened of this man than she ever had been of Jim. He was new, unpredictable, and she had no way of knowing what he was capable of.

"Legs spread.." Seb demanded, moving to pick up the clamps Jim had slapped from Molly's nipples earlier. Molly spread her legs and Seb sat down on the chair, his fingers toying with the nipple clamps, watching the pathologist with hungry eyes. He ran his hands over her flesh, tweaking her nipples. Molly's breath caught in her throat, frightened that he was about to reattach the dreaded clamps back onto her tender nipples. His fingers trailed between her legs, brushing lightly over her clit before he pulled back, slapping the inside of her thigh.

"Wider.." she obeyed, closing her eyes. This wasn't happening.. She wanted to beg him to stop, but the ballgag prevented any sound from leaving her lips. Seb's fingers toyed with her pussy lips before he attached one of the clamps to one of them, pulling on it, stretching it wide open. She whimpered in pain, her breath hitching. He then attached the other clamp to the other lip. He pulled the string from his pocket, threading it through one of the clamps, wrapping it behind Molly before threading it through the other clamp, tightening it so that her pink cunt was obscenely displayed. With a chuckle, he pulled out his camera phone, snapping pictures.

"Open your eyes, Molly.." he whispered, forcing two fingers crudely into her, chuckling at the feel of Jim's juices still inside her. "Oh he's used you well, hasn't he.." he smirked, before moving from his seat, moving to tie Molly's hands back to the ring on the ceiling which he'd raised so that she was stood just on her tiptoes. Silently, Seb moved back to the cupboard, pulling out a rather large butt plug and slipping it into Molly's cunt, using the moisture to lubricate it, before pushing it deep into her arsehole, fucking her with it a few times before forcing it completely in. He moved back to her exposed clit, pinching and pulling at it, twisting it back and forth until it was swollen and distended. Molly's eyes closed in pain once more, and she found herself crying into her gag, which muffled any sound she could make. Not that her crying would make him stop in any case.

After a few minutes of torturing her clit, Seb stood back up, gripping her nipples violently, pulling them away from her body. She bucked involuntarily, which caused the clamps on her pussy lips to be pulled tighter, shooting greater pain through her body. He chuckled at this reaction, enjoying it and drinking it it, continuing to twist her nipples, shaking her breasts. After a while, he released her nipples and sat back down on the chair, drinking in the sight of the young pathologist panting heavily in pain, her eyes squeezed closed, tears dripping down her face as she silently cursed herself for ever getting involved with James Moriarty.

Seb got to his feet, untying Molly and giving her arms a few minutes to allow the bloodflow to return, before dragging her by the hair towards a sawhorse that had gone unnoticed by Molly, bending her over it. Molly opened her eyes and looked up at Seb, who had no emotion on his face as he tied her wrists to two heavy cement blocks on the floor, spreading her legs and tying her ankles to two more blocks. He grabbed her hair once more, pulling her head up before slapping her across the cheek a few times, purely for his own entertainment.

"I wonder what your dear Sherlock would say if he could see you like this.." Seb chuckled, noting that Molly winced at the mention of Sherlock's name. "He's probably forgotten about you now, though.. He was only using you for his benefit. But you know that, don't you?"

Molly sobbed, though silently thanks to the gag still forced between her teeth. He was right, and she knew it. Sherlock had no interest in her at all. Knowing he'd hit a nerve, Seb moved to remove the ball gag from her lips. "You might as well get used to this.. I can't see Jim giving you up any time soon.." he smirked, before spitting on her face. Molly flinched. She'd not expected that. "Besides, you probably love this.. And I'm going to love hearing you scream.." he whispered, his voice barely audible, and yet she heard every word.

He walked around her, slowly moving the cement blocks further and further away from her body, stretching her limbs to their limits. She screamed with each movement, begging him to stop, knowing he had no intention of showing any mercy at all. With a smirk, he moved in front of her, dropping his trousers and forcing his hard cock into her mouth. Holding her by the hair, he pulled her head back and forth on his cock, forcing it past her gag reflex to hit the back of her throat, roughly fucking her face. When he was ready to cum, he released her hair and shot a big load of cum all over her face. He liked how her face looked covered in cum, and pulled out his phone to take another photo. "Beautiful.." he chuckled, tilting his head "Perhaps I'll send this one to Sherlock..."

Molly's legs and arms were stretched wide open, her pussy lips splayed obscenely open. Seb moved away from her, picking up a thick whip and twirling it gently in the air as he moved back towards her body. She flinched, knowing what was about to come, but as he brought the tip of the whip squarely down on her wide open cunt, she was filled with pain that she'd never anticipated. She screamed loudly, shrieking with pain like she never had before, a sound that was music to Moran's ears. A sadistic grin crept over his face as he gave her a dozen more hits, hitting the same spot every time with expert skill. Tears started streaming down Molly's face as she pleaded with him to stop, begging with every ounce of strength that she had. The whipping stopped, but her reprieve was short lived as he moved to her breasts next, hitting her nipples a few times before strengthening his blows on her tender breast flesh.

Molly's crying intensified as she glanced down, looking at her bright red tits, her nipples cracked, small trickles of blood dripping from them. He moved to her back, hitting her with brute force. She could feel the flesh ripping from her back, knowing she'd be scarred for life should she ever escape from this hell. After he became tired, he moved behind her, throwing the whip violently to the ground before releasing the clamps on her pussy lips. She struggled to catch her breath, attempting to calm herself down, but she'd completely lost hope of leaving captivity alive. Seb's tongue ran over her back, lapping at her dripping blood, his fingers gripping into her hips as he lined himself up behind her. Digging his nails into the bruised flesh of her hips, he forced himself brutally inside her. He moaned at the tightness, the butt plug that still resided inside her only adding to the deliciousness.

He began pounding hard into her, showing her very little mercy as his fingers moved from gripping her hips to tugging on her bleeding nipples. His lips ran over her back, occasionally biting into the deep wounds his whipping had created. Each bite caused Molly to scream and clench around his cock, an action that he enjoyed far too much. The pain was beginning to get too much, and a particularly nasty bite on her shoulder caused Molly to black out. Seb finished himself off, pulling himself out of her as he came, covering her lower back with his come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings. Rape, etc.

"That colour looks good on you.." Molly looked up from the microscope she was huddled over, glancing at the Consulting Detective standing beside her.  
"I.. It does?" she tilted her head, her eyes scanning Sherlock's face for any hint that he was merely toying with her like he had so often before.  
"Would I say it, if it wasn't true?" Sherlock's fingers brushed over Molly's neck, lightly caressing the smooth flesh there. She shuddered under his touch, but found herself leaning into it.  
"I guess not.." she smiled, taken by surprise when Sherlock's lips pressed against her own, drawing her into a kiss. She kissed back gently, timidly, her eyes closing. Sherlock's fingers brushed over her cheek softly.  
"Molly.." he spoke softly, her name lingering on his lips for just a second. She kept her eyes closed, just listening. "Molly.." he spoke again.  
"Yes?"  
"Mol-ly.." his voice became more sing-song, taunting, changing as he repeated her name again and again. She frowned, her eyes opening, her heart sinking at the sight before her eyes.

"Oh nice of you to join us again.." Jim chuckled, his fingers tweaking her nipples, tugging them hard.  
"Oh dear, she doesn't look good..." Sebastian chuckled. Molly tried to move from the crumpled pile she lay in upon the floor, but she felt weak. Too weak. She groaned, her body aching. Jim began to undress quickly, using his tie to tie Molly's arms behind her back.  
"I leave her with you for an hour and you make her black out?" Jim chuckled, his fingers moving to grip Molly's hair, pulling her to her feet. Her legs were too weak and she stumbled slightly, but Jim didn't give in, pulling her up. It felt as though her hair was being ripped from her scalp.  
"I do what I do.." the fingers of Jim's free hand trailed over the deep welts that covered Molly's pale body, evidence of the whipping Seb had given her.  
"Delicious.. Your flesh does look beautiful marked in such a fashion.." Jim whispered softly, his lips brushing over Molly's neck, nipping at her pulse points as he moved towards a chair, dragging the limp body of the forensic pathologist along with him. His fingers trailed between her legs, brushing lightly against her clit. She didn't respond, too weak and too exhausted to even register the pleasure shooting through her body.

"Oh dear.. poor Molly Hooper.. She's so tired.." the psychopath chuckled, spreading his legs a little before nodding to Seb, who moved towards the chair, dropping to his knees before the pair. Molly closed her eyes, wishing she could get back to that dream of Sherlock, back to pretending that all of this wasn't happening, but Seb's tongue brushed over her clit and she found it rather difficult to think of anything other than the jolts of pleasure forcing their way through her body. She attempted to close her legs, but Jim held her thighs open. She moaned softly, causing Jim to chuckle, his fingers brushing over her breasts, his touch softer than it had ever been, his cock growing hard against her back. In the back of her mind, she knew this was a trick, but she couldn't stop herself enjoying the brief moments of pleasure when they came.

Seb continued licking at her clit, occasionally dipping his tongue between her folds, until she was dripping wet, desperate to come, at which point he pulled back, a smirk on his face. Jim wasted no time, lifting Molly quickly and forcing himself deep inside her. She moaned, almost falling forward and off his lap, stopped only by Jim's hand on her waist. He began to move her quickly, moaning softly in her ear, before pulling himself out. He adjusted her, pressing his cock against her anus.

"Please no.." she whimpered "Jim.." he ignored her begging, forcing himself into her back passage, his hands gripping her hips, keeping her impaled on his cock. Jim looked up at Seb and gave him a little nod. The taller man stepped forward and, with a smirk, forced himself inside Molly's pussy. She grunted, pain suddenly taking over her body as she felt herself stretched ridiculously between these two men. As they began to move her between them, caring, once again, only about their own pleasure, she whimpered softly, tears forming in her eyes.

They seemed to last forever, moving opposite one another, not caring if they hurt her as they moved brutally. After what seemed to be hours to Molly, they both climaxed and pulled out of her sore, exhausted body. Gently, Jim lifted her, carrying her towards a mattress in the corner of the room, dropping her lightly onto it before throwing a duvet over her nakedness. His actions confused Molly, but she had no time to question him before exhaustion took over her consciousness, and she felt into a deep sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last time I'm going to put a warning, I think.. From now on, basically just assume the usual things - that Jim Moriarty is a bit of a bastard, that Molly Hooper is probably going to be tortured in some way or another, and that everything you recognise is not mine... That said, Enjoy this chapter xx

"What do you mean she's not turned up for three weeks?" Sherlock asked, thrusting his hands into his pockets. His eyes bore into Mike Stamford, making the other man suddenly aware of the height difference.  
"She put in all her holiday's at once. Needed some time to sort her head out."  
"Rubbish" Sherlock snapped "Are you really that stupid?"  
"Sherlock!" John groaned, apologising to Mike. "She might have needed to clear her head after the whole Jim thing."  
"Why would she need to do that? She didn't know who he was. His card said Jim Zucco, and she wouldn't even know the name Moriarty if he'd spelled it out so obviously anyway! Why on Earth would she need to clear her head?"  
John groaned.  
"Look, John. Molly plans her holidays carefully, she always has. She has 28 days in a year. She always saves one for the anniversary of her father's death, 5 for the week of Christmas when she visits her mother in Northampton, and she's saving 4 for the wedding's of various friends she's attending this summer. 10 down there, and yes she's up to 21 days so far. Molly wouldn't be that careless, and she's not left a message.."  
John sighed the defeated sigh he always did when Sherlock was right.  
"Let me see her holiday form.." he demanded. By this point, Mike was getting annoyed and purely wanted Sherlock to leave, and so fished Molly's holiday form from his desk drawer and handed it to the consulting detective.  
"That's not even her signature" Sherlock huffed, annoyed by the idiocy in the room.

She blinked her eyes open slowly, and glanced around. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but she felt rested for the first time since Jim had kidnapped her. Her body ached, but she was no longer tired. That was something.  
The room wasn't much different. It was cleaner, so someone had been in and cleaned up while she was asleep.  
"Ah Molly.." the voice sent a chill of fear through Molly's spine, and yet, she found herself slightly glad to be seeing someone.  
"Here, eat up" Jim handed her a bowl of pasta, and a bottle of water. She looked down at the bowl, before quickly tucking in, surprised at how hungry she was. He watched her eat, his eyes focussed on her lips, watching as she devoured piece after piece. She barely noticed what he was doing, merely content to have been given a fork to eat with.

"Sherlock, we can't just break in" John rolled his eyes as Sherlock picked the lock on Molly's flat door.  
"We can. Easily." Sherlock shrugged, opening the door.  
"I meant, morally. It's wrong."  
"Are you coming in or not?" Sherlock asked, stepping inside and taking a look round. John followed, closing the door behind him. He watched as Sherlock moved around the sitting room, his eyes scanning everything, taking in every detail, working.  
"Anything?" He asked after a few minutes, once Sherlock had slipped in and out of each of the rooms.  
"She's not on holiday. There was a struggle in her bedroom. None of her clothes are missing and there's.. certain.. bodily fluids on the bedsheets."  
"So what do we do? Call Lestrade?"  
Sherlock scoffed. "Those idiots? No.. better for Molly if we try to find her ourselves."

Pain shot through her stomach as the cramps racked her body. She'd eaten too quickly, and her stomach was paying the price. Jim looked down at her writhing form, chuckling softly.  
"Drink.." he whispered softly, holding the bottle of water to her lips. She did as she was told, thirst taking over. Once she'd drained the bottle, he gently helped her towards the bathroom.  
"Half an hour, Molly. Do what you need to. Shower, bathe, whatever.. I'll be back for you in thirty minutes. Don't try to escape, you won't be able to.."

He stared at the card between his fingers, and recalled how cruel he'd been that day.

_"What do you mean 'gay'? We're together.." she said, so innocently, a confused smile upon her face._   
_"And domestic bliss must suit you. Molly. You’ve put on three pounds since I last saw you."_   
_"Two and a half. " She protested. He tilted his head_   
_"No. three."_   
_"Sherlock.." John's voice barely registered as the atmosphere in the room shifted._   
_He could feel her breathing rate increasing without even glancing up from his microscope as she defended her relationship with the man she didn't know was a psychopath. "He’s not gay. Why do you have to spoil.. He’s not."_   
_"With that level of personal grooming?" He wasn't even sure why he was doing it. Jealousy perhaps, but no.. He didn't get jealous._   
_"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair. " John frowned at his friend._   
_"You wash your hair, there’s a difference. No, no tinted eyelashes.. clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines. Those tired, clubber’s eyes. Then there’s his underwear."_   
_"His underwear?" Oh Molly. How naive she was. Sherlock couldn't help but pity her slightly, and yet, he continued._   
_"Visible above the waistline. Very visible. Very particular brand. Plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish. I’d say you’d better break if off now and save yourself the pain. "_

Her face as she'd stormed from the room hurt him, physically. Even now, weeks later, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. At the time, he'd been too caught up in his cases, his great game, to even think about it, but now she was missing, his pathologist. Someone had taken her. He laughed at himself, scoffed really. Someone? Oh he knew who that someone was, and he was determined to get her back.

"Ah, better.. You look much cleaner.." Jim reentered the bathroom and looked over the pretty brunette as she perched on the edge of the bathtub, a white towel wrapped around her and her dark hair, wet around her shoulders. She looked broken, beaten and bruised, and it delighted him. He moved towards her silently, and brushed his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling, until he gripped it tightly, dragging her to her feet.

He pulled her into the big room she'd spent her imprisonment, tugging her into the centre of the room and handcuffing her hands to the hook in the ceiling, cranking it up until she was stood on her tiptoes, her shoulders already groaning with the strain.  
"We're going to try something a little different today, Molly.." he chuckled, pulling away her towel, his eyes drinking in her nakedness. He pulled out a ball gag, gripping her jaw as he forced it between her teeth. With a smirk, he pulled out a scalpel, her scalpel, the engraved one her father had given her when she'd first started studying pathology. Her eyes widened, and Jim swore he could feel the fear radiating from her.

"Frankly, my darling, there's not been enough blood for my liking, so far." he spoke as he stepped towards her. Molly closed her eyes, not wanting to see what was coming. Perhaps this was the end she'd prayed for days ago. At least she wouldn't have to suffer much more. She hissed as she felt the scalpel run over her thigh, splitting her skin. The blood began to flow quickly, dripping down her leg. Jim moved quickly to her other thigh, digging the instrument deep into her flesh. She cried out against the gag, whimpering, trying to pull away from the blade, but that only seemed to make it catch her skin.

"There must be SOMETHING..." Sherlock tugged at his curls as he paced, frustrated that everything lead to nothing. Moriarty had left him no clues, no hints. This wasn't a game, not like before. This time, Moriarty wasn't playing. Sherlock had scanned Molly's flat six times, looking for anything. He'd worked out, so far, that Jim had broken into her bedroom window, pinned her down and raped her, before drugging her and carrying her out of the back door. But that was all. He'd yet to work out where she was.

"Sherlock, calm down.." John sighed, watching his friend curiously. He'd never seen Sherlock so.. involved in a case. Sherlock slumped himself down on the sofa, hastily attaching three nicotine patches to his forearm. He needed to think.

Jim had left no part of her body untouched. Blood dripped down her back, her arms, her legs, pooling on the floor beneath her. Molly hung limp, barely conscious. This was it, this was how she was going to die. Blood loss. After everything she'd been through at the madman's mercy, she was going to die in such an unimpressive way. She sobbed softly. Jim's fingers worked quickly, undoing her ballgag, and allowing the rubber ball to fall to the floor. He wanted to hear her scream. He slowly dragged the scalpel over the flesh of her stomach, it's blade digging deep into her skin. Molly let out a loud scream, before her head dropped forward as darkness consumed her. With a chuckle, he stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Poor Molly Hooper would forever be scarred with his name on the smooth skin of her stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock's eyes flew open and he immediately pulled himself up, glancing around the room before frowning as his eyes settled upon John.  
"What?" the doctor looked at his friend, worrying about Sherlock, an unhelpful feeling, John noted, while poor Molly was still missing.  
"Did you hear that?"  
"What?"  
"A scream."  
"I didn't hear anything"  
"There was definitely a scream"  
"Are you sure you didn't just drop off for a few minutes?"  
"I heard a scream John.." Sherlock spoke confidently, though he'd actually asked himself the very question when he'd first heard the piercing sound.  
"Did it sound like..." John trailed off, not wanting to ask and send Sherlock into another state of panic, or what John assumed was something resembling panic in his odd friend's brain.  
"Molly? I don't know.." he sighed, sitting back down on the sofa, and tugging at his curls. He just had to find her.

"The vet called.. Toby passed away"  
"Toby?"  
"Molly's cat." John sighed as he sat down opposite Sherlock in the lab where he'd first met Molly Hooper. Sherlock was staring into a microscope, inspecting fibres from Molly's bedroom carpet.  
"Oh. And?"  
"Molly will be devastated.. If we ever find her to tell her." Sherlock growled, looking up at John with pure fire in his eyes.  
"Don't you dare, John Watson.. Don't give up on her. She's alive.. and we'll find her."  
"How can you be so sure?"  
"Because if he'd killed her.. He'd have gloated about it."

Sherlock groaned in anger as he threw the petri-dish against the wall, causing John to jump slightly.  
"What the hell, Sherlock?"  
"NOTHING, AGAIN!" he growled. "Every single thing I can think of, everything that usually works.. nothing is helping." he ran his hands through his hair, ignoring the buzzing of his phone as he began to pace.  
"Sherlock.." John picked up the phone, glancing down at the screen before looking up at his flatmate, who was rapidly talking to himself, speaking a mile a minute and completely ignoring John.  
"Sherlock!" he said again, more urgently. Sherlock stopped, mid-word, and looked at him. John held out the phone without a word, and Sherlock took it, his eyes scanning the screen and the message that had flashed up upon it.  
 _Finally noticed she's missing, have you? Suppose you want her back.. Well.. I suppose I could give you a little test to see if you deserve her. I'll be in touch. -Jim Moriarty_  
Molly stared up at the ceiling, groaning in pain as she tried to move. She sat up, looking down at her arms, the deep cuts were stitched, the shallower ones had been left to heal themselves and over the past week and a bit, they'd done pretty well. She'd not seen Jim much since the day he armed himself with her scalpel. He'd visited her once a day, delivering her food and water before raping her purely to amuse himself and break her spirit even further. Then he'd leave and not return until the next day. She'd seen a doctor, he'd been the one who'd stitched her up, but apart from that, she'd been completely alone for ten days. She pulled herself up, making her way towards the door at the far end of the room, slowly. Every so often, her feet would slip out from under her and she'd fall to the floor and have to pull herself up again. But she was determined to make it to the door. She gripped hold of the handle and pulled, expecting it to be locked. She was pleasantly surprised when it opened, and nearly wept in relief. But her relief was short-lived.

"Going somewhere?" the gruff voice chuckled softly and Seb moved forward, wrapping his arm around Molly's torso as he dragged her back into the room, slamming the door behind him.

"He's not been in touch.." John sighed, pulling out his newspaper and staring at the words on the pages, unable to actually take anything in. It had been 5 days since Jim's message and the pair were becoming irritated by the silence. Sherlock frowned.  
"I'm well aware of that."  
"Why do you think that is?"  
"Because he knows it will get to us."

Her hands were instantly strapped into cuffs that held her to the wall, her nose pressed against the cold concrete, a shiver running down her naked body despite the warmth of the room. Seb straightened up, having fixed Molly's feet to chains on the floor, and smirked to himself. The sight of the brunette restrained with her legs spread 2 feet and her breasts pressed firmly against the wall caused a stirring in his crotch. But before he got to have his fun, Molly needed a deterrent to prevent her attempting to run away again. Opening Jim's 'toy cupboard', Seb pulled out a long cat o'nine tails that Jim had made specially. Each of the thing pieces of leather that made up the whip was dotted with small, sharp metal studs, intended to rip and tear at flesh. With a chuckle, Seb brought the horrific object down onto Molly's back, causing her to cry out in pain, forcing her eyes closed. He repeated his actions, watching at the metal studs dug into parts of her porcelain skin, before tearing it from her body. He gave her one lash for each day she'd been locked in captivity, before throwing the object down and leaving the room, leaving Molly restrained and sobbing softly, her back dripping with blood and covered in welts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beginning to find it difficult to write this story, purely because the Jim in my head wants to get more evil than he already has been. I won't draw out poor Molly's agony for much longer, I promise she'll be saved soon. Thanks for sticking with me.


	8. Chapter 8

_6 Hours, Sherlock. Six Hours and then she dies, so you'd better quickly find Lisa Hubbard, she'll start your little test. -Jim._

 

Seb moved slowly against her back, his rough clothing scratching the cuts he'd made the day before. Molly whimpered softly from her position bent over the wooden horse. She'd gotten used to rape in her month of captivity, something she hated. It's not something she'd ever wanted to be accustomed to. Seb grunted, gripping her hips as he pushed deep inside her, releasing himself inside her as he reached his climax. As he pulled out, he rolled his eyes at the clapping behind him and turned around, tucking himself into his jeans.  
"Lovely show.. Honestly.. Now go and do what I told you to." Jim barked. Seb nodded and slipped past his boss, moving into the bathroom. "Now then, Molly.. today might be your lucky day.." he smirked, running his fingers down her back, digging his nails into the welts on her back. "Or it might be the day you die.."

 

"Air hostess, easy.." Sherlock grumbled as he looked over the pale corpse, shooting a look at Stamford. He wasn't as easy to deal with as Molly Hooper, and wasn't anywhere near as pleasant to be around. Sherlock partly blamed Mike for this whole thing with Molly anyway.  
"Right. Are you done with her?"  
"No.." the detective grumbled, bending over the corpse once more. There was a reason he'd been drawn to this particular corpse by Jim, it had to link him to Molly somehow. "Give me her files..."

 

"I'll miss this.." he chuckled as he pulled himself out of her for the final time, chuckling at the sight of his come dripping from her. He spanked her backside hard before untying her, dragging her to the centre of the floor. Holding her up by the hair, he smirked, running a sharp knife along her jaw. "Do you know, I love the sight of your blood.. I'm having to try very hard not to spill it all right now.." he watched as Molly shivered in fear, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.  
"Boss.. it's ready.."  
"Guess it's your lucky day, Molly Hooper..."

 

"I don't see why you're so eager to get her back, Sherlock. You've never been like this with a case.." Mycroft grumbled as he handed his younger brother a top secret file. Sherlock's trace of the air hostess' history lead him to a secret government cell within MI6 that had 'dealt' with the woman for revealing secrets to a foreign diplomat. He was so sure this trail was going to lead him to Molly, Jim was dropping hints left, right and centre, and now he needed to be completely focused.  
"Because I need my pathologist.." Sherlock grumbled as he flicked through the file, frowning at a piece of paper that dropped onto his lap. "Did you put this in here?"  
"No, that's nothing to do with us."

 

"I've given him 6 hours. He's wasted 3 already.." Jim chuckled as he watched Seb place Molly into the bathtub. The henchman's hands ran over Molly's body, pinching her nipples as he smirked.  
"Doing what?" Seb responded as he picked up a large needle and pressed the tip into Molly's upper arm.  
"Barking up the wrong tree.." Seb emptied the contents of the needle into Molly's arm, causing the pathologist to whimper as a burning sensation coursed outwardly from the point of insertion. Once that was done, Seb turned on the tap, timing the dripping with his watch until the water was falling at the correct speed. Without a word, both men left the room without explaining anything to Molly.

 

Sherlock glanced at John as he entered the plumber's 'shop', if it could even be described as that, before watching through the window, reading everything about the man John was talking to. Polish, from Gdańsk most likely. Smoker, sex addict, does most of the work himself, not linked with any criminal organisation, but did recently do some work on one of MI6's bathrooms. Nothing outstanding really. John moved towards the desk, internally groaning at Sherlock's plan and Sherlock watched as he engaged the man in conversation, before they slipped into one of the side offices, giving Sherlock the chance to do what he'd been planning.

Without a word, the consulting detective slipped into the building and ducked behind the desk, quickly flicking through a few notebooks and text books that scattered the untidy workspace. He read everything, locking it away before quickly brushing it aside. He only had 90 minutes left to save her, and it was beginning to get to him. Annoyed that he couldn't find anything, Sherlock stood up, knocking the desk. The computer upon it sprung to life as the mouse moved slightly, and Sherlock stared in horror at the plumber's first appointment in the morning. 221C Baker Street.

 

The water was warm. She was thankful for that. It soothed her aching muscles and her cuts didn't seem to hurt as much. The water itself had become a light pink as it mixed with traces of her blood. She wasn't sure why they'd left her, or where they'd gone, but she didn't dare move, in case it should result in another bout of punishment.

 

He'd been stupid. How could he not have seen it? Jim had drawn him away from Baker Street again, and all the time she was there, right under his nose. The journey home would take them an hour, eating into every precious minute he had to save Molly, and then, what if there was another stupid riddle, another stupid quest that Jim would send him on. He could hardly stand it.

 

The water was getting deeper now, and they'd not returned. Perhaps they'd simply forgotten? Either way, Molly knew she needed to sit up, or turn the water off before it caused her to drown. She attempted to push herself up, but her arms were stiff. No, she thought, not stiff. Immobile. They'd done something to her, she couldn't move. In panic, she realised that this was why they'd left her alone, everything clicked. Sherlock had a limited window in which to rescue her, or she'd drown.

 

He tore through the front door, barking for Mrs Hudson. Traffic on the roads had added an extra 15 minutes to his journey time, and now he was left with only 15 minutes to save Molly Hooper. The landlady stepped out of her flat, frowning.  
"Sherlock, what is it? You look terrible.."  
"The key, Mrs Hudson, I need the key for the basement flat.."  
"What do you need that for?" Mrs Hudson frowned, moving to grab her box of keys, rifling through them until she found the one she was looking for. Sherlock instantly snatched it from her, unlocking the door and bursting into the flat. He looked around with a frown at the completely empty sitting room.  
"No.." he sighed. sinking to his knees. He'd been wrong. It hadn't been here. The room filled with silence as John and Mrs Hudson stood, watching as Sherlock very nearly broke.

 

The water reached her chin and she tried to call out. Surely someone would hear her? She was sure the room she'd been captive in was soundproof, but the bathroom? Tears began building in her eyes when she realised that she couldn't even speak. The water was beginning to cover her mouth now, this was it, she was going to die, Sherlock wasn't coming.

 

The dripping caught his attention and he rose from the floor. How could he have been so stupid to assume she would be in the middle of the sitting room? He tried the bathroom door, frowning when it wouldn't open, locked from the inside. With a growl, he kicked it twice. The wooden frame shook as the door burst open, the bolt lock flying to the floor with the force of his kick. He rushed towards the bathtub, pulling Molly from the water just before it covered her nostrils. Grabbing a large white towel, he pulled it around her, pulling her onto his knee.

The warmth of the towel around her aching body and the feel of Sherlock's arms around her caused Molly's resolve to finally crumble. Burying her head against his lapel, she broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sherlock's fingers brushed through her wet hair, holding her thin body tight as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.  
"I've got you, Molly.. You're safe now.."


End file.
